“No, but just that everyone should be careful. The influx of people and all. Everyone should be on their guard. And even thoughyou’re a beautiful distraction, that means I’ll work that much harder so I stay focused.”
She sets a hand on my chest. “You’re all good, Banks. And don’t worry. I don’t want to let on about this thing either. To Tabitha. The crew. Everyone. I don’t want to become a distraction for anyone. I want the film to go smoothly. The town is benefiting from the tourism. We’re going to benefit at the farm. A lot is riding on this.”
And everyone includes someone in particular. “And everyone includes Haven, I’m guessing?”
With a wince, she nods. “I don’t like to keep secrets from her, but I don’t want her to be distracted. She worries about me already. But I only want her to focus on the job.”
Pretty sure it’s the other way around—Ripley worries about Haven. But it’s not my place to point that out. “I understand.”
“She worked so hard for this her whole life,” she says, her voice tightening as she shifts closer to me. “I think acting was what got her through the death of our parents.”
My heart squeezes again. “I completely get it.” I run my knuckles down her cheek. “But I bet you got her through it too, Ripley,” I say gently.
She shrugs, maybe not wanting to take credit for it.
“You said you helped her through the dark days. I think it was you, not just acting.”
She blows out a breath. “Maybe. But the point is—I want this for her. I want her to have her dreams. I want Grandma to have her dreams.”
Impulsively, I say, “What about your dreams?”
She blinks, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Well, what are yours? Is it this farm?”
She smiles. “It’s home. I love it. I want it to be the best it can be. I want families to come here and have picnics, to play in the lavender maze, or couples to go on dates here since I finally set up fairy lights at night.”
“That sounds very romantic.”
“It is. I just want others to enjoy it too. To fill their homes with flowers, to open a bottle of lotion, or oil, or soap, and inhale it and feel…calm and happy.”
“You’re doing that, Ripley,” I say.
“Some more attention from the film would be nice. More tourists, more business—you know what I mean?”
I nod. “I do.”
“That’s why I said it—we should keep this on the down-low.”
I reach for her, press a kiss to her nose. “I like secrets. You’re the best kind of secret there is.”
She sighs happily, flips to her side, then closes her eyes.
I don’t fall asleep as fast as she does.
My mind is racing forward, thinking about tomorrow, and the next day, and the next week.
When this ends.
33
THEATER MAGIC
RIPLEY
The picture racks up views overnight, but I do my best to ignore it, and honestly, it’s not that hard.
Since, well, it’s not really me people are seeing in the picture. Besides, it’s not the only picture circulating of “Haven and Chris.” The film’s PR team releases actual pics of the stars too. Posed ones, outside a trailer, with the caption First day on set forSomeone Else’s Ring!
